The Chevalier d'Auriac

by S. Levett Yeats

  CHAPTER XIX

  'PLAIN HENRI DE BOURBON'

  Imagine what it was to me, to whom every moment was worth its weightin gold, to see the group, and, above all, Ravaillac, standing at thedoor of the Toison d'Or. Was there ever such cross-grained luck? If Icould but pass down that narrow street without the hawk's eye of theFlagellant falling on me I might in an hour do all and more than I hadever hoped for. I could---- But _tonne dieu!_ What was the use ofprating about what might be. Through the embrasure of the turret Icovered Ravaillac with my pistol, and twice half pressed the triggerand twice restrained myself. Even if he fell the shot would ruin all.It could not be risked, and I thrust the long, black barrel back intomy belt with a curse, and began to walk restlessly to and fro in thepassage. It was impossible for me to keep still, my nerves were sostrung. In a little I began to cool and sought my room, determined tooccasionally take a turn to the turret and see if the guard was gone,but not to harass myself by watching them continually. In about anhour or so I wearied of sitting and looked out of my window again inthe direction of Madame's room, as I called it to myself. At themoment of my doing so the shutter that was open towards my sidesuddenly closed. I could just make out a flash of white fingers on thedark woodwork, and then the face I longed to see looked out from thehalf of the window still open and drew back again almost on theinstant. Feeling sure that she would look out once more, I leanedforwards. Madame did as I expected, and I could see the astonishmenton her face and hear her cry of joy. She tried to converse with me bysignals on her fingers, and for the first time I had occasion to blesswhat I had up to now considered a foolish accomplishment that I pickedup as a boy when I was with Monseigneur de Joyeuse. Enough that Madamemade me understand that she was well treated, and I let my dear knowthat there were those at work who would soon free her, and perhapsthere was a word or so besides on a subject which concerned us twoalone. It was in the midst of this part of our converse that she drewback all at once with a warning finger on her lips, and though Iwaited again for a full hour, forgetting the watchers below in thefresh fears that began to assail me, I did not see her again. At theend of that time, however, a white kerchief waved twice from thewindow and was then withdrawn. I turned back into my room, and nowthat I was certain she was there my impatience at being penned up as Iwas became almost insupportable, and heaven alone knows how I heldmyself in from making a dash for it and risking all on the venture. Tocut the matter short, it wanted but a few minutes to sundown when, tomy relief, I saw a cloaked figure I could not recognise step out ofthe Toison d'Or, and, after giving a few orders to the guards, passbriskly down the street. They in their turn went into the house, andat last the road was clear. I hesitated no further and hurried downthe stairs. At the door I was stopped by my host, who inquired whitherI was hastening.

  'I have just seen a friend,' I answered, and the next moment was inthe street. As I pressed forwards I had two minds about keeping myappointment with Pantin in the square behind St. Martin's, but as Iwent on I reflected that I had to pass that way, and as I might needthe notary's aid I would wait there a few minutes, and if he did notcome, go straight to de Belin with my news.

  Although I was not in a frame of mind to observe what was going onaround me, I soon became conscious that one of those sudden fogs whichextend over the city at this period of the year had arisen, as itwere, out of nothing, and in the course of a few minutes I wascompelled to slacken pace and pick my way slowly, and with thegreatest caution in regard to landmarks, for I could not risk losingmy way again. The fog was not a thick one, but it was sufficient,united with the coming evening, to almost blur out the streets andhouses and make the figures of passers-by loom out like large andindistinct shadows. Carefully as I had tried to impress the way on mymemory, I hesitated more than once as to the route I should take, andit was with something that was like a sigh of relief that I foundmyself at last behind St. Martin's, whose spire towered above me, atall, grey phantom. Here I halted for a moment to see if one of thefew shadows that flickered now and then through the haze might givesome signal by which I might recognise Pantin. It was in vain, and,determining to wait no longer, I set off at a round pace, when I wassuddenly arrested by hearing the rich tones of a voice singing:

  Frere Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous, dormez-vous?

  The clear notes rang out through the fog, bringing with them a hundredrecollections of the time when I had last heard the chorus. And thevoice? That was not to be mistaken. It was de Belin, or else hisghost. Without a moment's hesitation I sang back the lines, advancingat the same time in the direction in which I had heard the voice. Ihad not gone fifty paces when I saw two tall shadows approaching me,and at the same time heard the verse again.

  'Lisois!' I called out.

  'It is he,' I heard de Belin say.

  Then the shadows stopped for a moment, and another and slighter figurejoined them. Finally, one came forwards, and, when within a yard or soof me, spoke:

  'D'Auriac, is it you?'

  'Yes. I was hastening to you. Man, I have discovered all!'

  '_Morbleu!_' exclaimed the Compte; 'the _chanson_ was a happy thought,else we had missed you in this fog.'

  'Is Pantin here? We have not a moment to lose.'

  'He is. It was he who guided us here. I have brought a friend with me.Do not ask his name; but speak freely before him, and tell us exactlywhat you have discovered.'

  With these words he took me by the arm and led me up to the two. Inthe shorter there was no difficulty in recognising Pantin. What withthe mist, the mask on his face, and the roquelaure that enveloped himto the ears, I could make out nothing of the stranger, who did noteven answer my salutation except by a slight inclination of his head.I need not say I wasted no time, but laid the matter before them, andwound up with:

  'And now, gentlemen, we are three swords; let Pantin hasten and bringhalf a dozen of the Compte's people, and I guarantee that we not onlyfree Madame, but take the whole brood of vipers.'

  'These cards won't win,' said de Belin. 'We must have more witnessesthan ourselves, who are known to be enemies of the Marshal. The Kingplays at More's this evening. He is like to be there now, or else verysoon, for he is bound on a frolic to-night. We will go straight there.Villeroi and Sully are both to be in attendance, and also theMarshal.'

  'The Marshal will not be there,' I interrupted.

  'If SO I wager the King asks for him, and I will take it on my head toexplain. In half an hour we could be back with Sully and Villeroi, andthen the game is ours. Do you not agree, monseigneur?' and he turnedto the stranger. All the answer was another grave inclination of thehead.

  'Come,' went on de Belin, slipping his arm into mine. 'Put yourself inmy hands, d'Auriac, and I pledge you success. My God!' he broke offsuddenly, 'to think we should win so completely.'

  There was so much in what he said that I agreed without demur, andBelin hurried me onwards, the stranger and Pantin following a fewsteps behind. As we went on Belin whispered:

  'Ask no questions, d'Auriac; say nothing until you see Sully, and tenminutes after I promise you twenty swords.'

  'If I do not get them in an hour,' I said grimly, 'I will go backmyself and try what my own sword can do.'

  'And I will go back with you, too--there, is that not enough? Come,man!' and we hurried along through the mist as fast as we could walk,keeping on the left side of the road.

  As we came up to St. Merri, de Belin stopped and blew sharply on awhistle. There was an answering call, and from under the Flamboyantportico of the church the figure of a man, with a led horse, slippedout into the fog, now yellow with the light of the street lamps.Without a word the stranger mounted, and the two passed us at a trot.

  'What the devil does that mean!' I exclaimed. 'Your Monseigneur hasleft us!'

  'To return again,' answered the Compte drily. And then added, 'It willbe a gay party at More's to-night, and it is time we were there.'

&
nbsp; I made no answer, but, as we went on, could not help feeling uneasy inmy mind at the thought of being recognised at More's; for after whatde Belin had said of the King's temper towards me, I made sure that Iwould have scant mercy were I once arrested. And again, I would saythat it was not for myself I was in dread, but for the probableconsequence to Madame did any harm happen to me at this juncture.

  But I had put my foot in the stirrup, and was bound to ride now; andthen there was de Belin's word. At last we reached More's, and as weentered the hall I could not help wondering if the good Parisians knewthat their King was playing at primero in an ordinary of the city, andwould be later on, perhaps, pursued by the watch. More, whom I had notseen since my affair with d'Ayen, was in the hall, and at a word fromde Belin conducted us himself up the stairway, though looking askanceat me. We at length gained a long corridor, at the beginning of whichPantin was left. We stopped before the closed doors of a privatedining-room from within which we could hear shouts of laughter.

  'His Majesty and M. de Vitry arrived scarce a half-hour ago,'whispered More as we approached the door.

  'We will not trouble you further,' replied the Compte; 'it is the ruleat these little parties to enter unannounced.'

  With these words he put his hand to the door and went in, I followingat his heels. There were at least ten or a dozen men in the roomstanding round a table, at which sat the King engaged at play with M.de Bassompierre. Neither the King nor Bassompierre, who seemedabsorbed in the game, took the least notice of our entrance, nor didthey seem in the least disturbed by the constant laughter and conversethat went on. The others, however, stopped, and then burst out injoyous greetings of de Belin and very haughty glances at me. M. leGrand, indeed, bent forward from his great height, and whisperedaudibly to the Compte:

  'What scarecrow have you brought here, de Belin!'

  'Our captain for to-night, duc--see, there is the Grand-Master lookingas if each crown the King loses was the last drop of blood in theveins of Bethune.' And as he said this, Sully and he glanced at eachother, and a light, like that in an opal, flamed in the greatminister's eyes.

  M. le Grand, however, seemed to be inclined for converse with me, and,stepping up, asked, 'And where do you lead us to-night, monsieur?'

  I was about to make some answer when de Vitry interposed, 'My dearduc, there is plenty of time to ask that. I wager you fifty pistolesthat d'Ayen there throws higher than you five times out of six.'

  'Done,' replied Bellegarde--and then those who were not round the Kingand Bassompierre, gathered to watch Bellegarde and d'Ayen, whosecheeks were flushed with excitement as he threw with his left hand,the right being still in a sling.

  In the meantime the King played on, taking no notice of anyone, hisbeaked nose dropping lower towards his chin as he lost one rouleauafter another to Bassompierre.

  '_Ventre St. Gris!_' he exclaimed at last, 'was ever such luck; atthis rate I shall not have a shirt to my back in half an hour.'

  'If the Marshal were only here,' said Sully, 'we could start off atonce. Sire, instead of risking any more. I see de Belin has broughtour guide.'

  'Yes; where is Biron? I am sick of this;' and the King, who was a badloser, rose from his seat impatiently, at the same time forgetting tohand over the last rouleau of pistoles he had lost to Bassompierre,and thrusting them back into his pocket with an absent gesture.

  As if in answer to his question the door opened, admitting the slightfigure and handsome face of de Gie.

  'Where is the Marshal? Where is Biron?' asked ten voices in a breath.

  'Yes, M. de Gie,' put in the King; 'where is Biron?'

  'Sire, the Marshal is indisposed. He has begged me to present hisexcuses and to say he is too ill to come to-night;' and as he spoke Isaw de Gie's jewelled fingers trembling, and his cheek had lost allcolour.

  'This is sorry news to spoil a gay evening,' said the King; and theMaster-General, pulling a comfit box from his vest pocket, toyed withit in his hand as he followed, 'Biron must be ill, indeed, to stayaway. Sire. What does your Majesty think? Shall we begin our ramblesby calling on Monseigneur?'

  'The very thing, Grand-Master; we will start at once.'

  'But, Sire, the Marshal is too ill to see anyone--even your Majesty,'said de Gie desperately, and with whitening lips.

  I thought I heard de Vitry mutter 'Traitor' under his thick moustache,but the Guardsman parried my glance with an unconcerned look. Therewas a silence of a half-minute at de Gie's speech, and the Kingreddened to the forehead.

  'If it is as you say, M. le Vicompte, I know the Marshal too wellnot to feel sure that there are two persons whom he would seewere he dying--which God forbid--and one of these two is his King.Grand-Master, we will go, but--and his voice took a tone of sharpcommand, and his eyes rested first on de Gie, and then on the figureof a tall cavalier, at whose throat flashed the jewel of the St.Esprit--'but I must first ask M. de Vitry to do his duty.'

  As for me I was dumb with astonishment, and half the faces around mewere filled with amaze. Then de Vitry's voice broke the stillness:

  'My lord of Epernon, your sword--and you too, M. le Vicompte.'

  The duke slipped off his rapier with a sarcastic smile and handed theweapon to the Captain of the Guard; but we could hear the clicking ofthe buckles as de Gie's trembling fingers tried in vain to unclasp hisbelt. So agitated was he that de Vitry had to assist him in his taskbefore it was accomplished.

  The King spoke again in the same grating tones:

  'M. de Bassompierre and you, de Luynes, I leave the prisoners in yourcharge. In the meantime, messieurs, we will slightly change our plans.I shall not go myself to the Marshal's house; but I depute you,Grand-Master, and these gentlemen here, all except de Vitry, who comeswith me, to repair there in my name. Should M. de Biron not be able tosee you, you will come to me--the Grand-Master knows where.'

  'You will be careful, Sire,' said Sully.

  '_Mordieu!_ Yes--go, gentlemen.'

  I was about to follow the others, but Belin caught me by the arm as hepassed out. 'Stay where you are,' he whispered, and then we waiteduntil the footsteps died away along the corridor, the King standingwith his brows bent and muttering to himself:

  'If it were not true--if it were not true.'

  Suddenly he roused himself. 'Come, de Vitry--my mask and cloak; andyou, too, sir,' he said, turning on me with a harsh glance. He put onhis mask, drew the collar of his roquelaure up to his ears, and in amoment I recognised the silent stranger who had ridden off so abruptlyfrom under the portico of St. Merri. I could not repress my start ofsurprise, and I thought I caught a strange glance in de Vitry's eyes;but the King's face was impassive as stone.

  'We go out by the private stair, Sire; d'Aubusson is there with thehorses.' With these words he lifted the tapestry of the wall andtouched a door. It swung back of its own accord, and the King steppedforward, the Captain of the Guard and myself on his heels. When wegained the little street at the back of More's, we saw there threemounted men with three led horses.

  De Vitry adjusted the King's stirrup, who sprang into the saddle insilence, and then, motioning me to do likewise, mounted himself.

  'Monsieur,' said the King to me, reining in his restive horse, 'youwill lead us straight to your lodging, next to the Toison d'Or.'

  'Sire,' I made answer, 'but it will be necessary to leave the horsesby St. Martin's, as their presence near the Toison d'Or might arousecuriosity and suspicion.'

  'I understand, monsieur; have the goodness to lead on.'

  I rode at the head of the small troop, nosing my way through the fogwith my mind full of feelings it was impossible to describe, but withmy heart beating with joy. Neither d'Aubusson nor de Vitry gave a signthat they knew me, and, but for an occasional direction that I gave toturn to the right or left, we rode in silence through the mist, nowbeginning to clear, and through which the moon shone with the light ofa faint night lamp behind lace curtains. At St. Martin's wedismounted. There was a whispered word between the lieute
nant and deVitry, and then the King, de Vitry, and myself pressed forwards onfoot, leaving d'Aubusson and the troopers with the horses. It wouldtake too long, if indeed I have the power, to describe the tumult inmy mind as we wound in and out of the cross streets and bye lanestowards the Toison d'Or. At last we came to the jaws of the blindpassage, and I whispered to de Vitry that we were there. Henry turnedto de Vitry and asked:

  'Are you sure the signals are understood, de Vitry?'

  'Yes, Sire.'

  There was no other word spoken, and keeping on the off side of theroad, to avoid passing immediately before the door of the Toison d'Or,where it was possible a guard might be set, we went onward towards mylodging. Favoured by the mist, which still hung over the passage, wegot through without accident; but I perceived that not a lightglimmered from the face of Babette's house, though I could hear thebolts of the entrance-door being drawn, as if some one had entered amoment or so before we came up. My own lodging was, however,different, and through the glaze of the window we could see the sicklyglare of the light in the shop, where Monsieur and Madame were nodoubt discussing the business of the day.

  'We must quiet my landlord and his wife,' I whispered to Vitry as wecame up to the door.

  'Very well,' he said, and then I knocked.

  The fence, who was alone, himself opened the door. 'Ah, captain,' heexclaimed, 'we thought you were lost; but I see you have friends.' Hesaid no more, for I seized his throat with a grip of iron, whilst deVitry laced him up with his own belt. An improvised gag put a stop toall outcry, and in a thrice he was lying like a log amongst his ownstolen wares.

  'Madame is doubtless in bed,' I said to him, and a sharp screaminterrupted my words, for the woman, doubtless hearing the scuffle,had rushed into the room. M. de Vitry was, however, equal to theoccasion, and she, too, was deposited beside her husband.

  The King, who had taken no part in these proceedings, now said:

  'I trust that woman's cry will not raise an alarm--_Ventre St. Gris_if it does!'

  'Have no fear. Sire,' I said in a low tone; 'the cries of women inthis part of your capital are too frequent to attract the leastnotice. They will but think that there has been a little conjugaldifference.'

  'So far, so good. De Vitry, you will stay here. At the first sound ofthe Grand-Master's whistle you will answer it, and they will know whatto do. I have something to say to M. d'Auriac. Take me to your room,sir.'

  I bowed, and, lighting a taper that stood in a holder of mouldedbrass--a prize that had doubtless come to my landlord through one ofhis clients--led the way up the rickety stairs, and stopping at thedoor of my chamber, opened it to let the King pass. For an instant hehesitated, fixing his keen and searching eyes on me--eyes that flashedand sparkled beneath the mask that covered half his features, and thenspoke:

  'M. d'Auriac, are you still an enemy of your King?'

  I could make no answer; I did not know what to say, and stood, candlein hand, in silence. Then Henry laughed shortly and stepped into theroom. I shut the door as I followed, and turned up the lamp on mytable. Then, facing the King, I said, 'Sire, I await your orders.'

  He had flung off his cloak and mask, and was leaning against thewardrobe, one hand on the hilt of his sword, and at my words he spokeslowly: 'I desire to see this room in the Toison d'Or, and to lookupon the assembly that has met there with my own eyes.'

  'Now, Sire?'

  'Yes, now.'

  'Your Majesty, it is not now possible!'

  '_Ventre St. Gris!_--not possible!'

  'Permit me, Sire--the only way is by this window. If your Majesty willstep here, you will see the risk of it. I will go and see if they havemet; but I conjure you not to make the attempt. The slightest accidentwould be fatal.'

  'Do you think I have never scaled a rock before?' he said, craning outof the window. 'Am I a child, M. d'Auriac, or _mille tonnerres!_because my beard is grey, am I in my dotage? I will go, sir, and thankGod that for this moment I can drop the King and be a simple knight.You can stay behind, monsieur, if you like. I go to test the truth ofyour words.'

  'Your Majesty might save yourself the trouble. I again entreat you;your life belongs to France.'

  'I know that,' he interrupted haughtily. 'No more prating, please.Will you go first, or shall I?'

  There was no answer to this. It flashed on me to call to de Vitry foraid to stop the King, but one look at those resolute features beforeme convinced me that such a course would be useless. I lowered thelight, and then testing the ends of the ladder again and again, madethe ascent as before. Leaning through the embrasure, I saw the darkfigure of the King already holding on to the ladder, and he followedme, as agile as a cat. Making a long arm, I seized him by theshoulder, and with this assistance he clambered noiselessly over theparapet and lay beside me.

  'Cahors over again,' he whispered; 'and that is the skylight. Theyburn bright lamps.'

  'The easier for us to see, Sire. Creep forward softly and look.'

  One by one we stole up to the skylight, and the King, raising himself,glanced in, my eyes following over his shoulders. For full fiveminutes we were there, hearing every word, seeing every soul, and thenthe King bent down softly, and, laying a hand on my shoulder, motionedme back. It was not until we reached the parapet that he saidanything, and it was as if he were muttering a prayer to himself.

  When we got back I helped him to dress. He did not, however, resumehis roquelaure or hat, but stood playing with the hilt of his sword,letting his eye run backward and forward over the vacant space in myroom. At last he turned to me:

  'Monsieur, you have not answered the question I put you a momentbefore.'

  'Sire,' I answered boldly, 'is it my fault?'

  He began to pull at his moustache, keeping his eyes to the ground andsaying to himself, 'Sully will not be here for a little; there istime.' As for me, I took my courage in both hands and waited. So ahalf-minute must have passed before he spoke again.

  'Monsieur, if a gentleman has wronged another, there is only onecourse open. There is room enough here--take your sword and yourplace.'

  'I--I----,' I stammered. 'Your Majesty, I do not understand.'

  'I never heard that monsieur le chevalier was dense in these matters.Come, sir, time presses--your place.'

  'May my hand wither if I do,' I burst out 'I will never stand sobefore the King.'

  'Not before the King, monsieur, but before a man who considers himselfa little wronged, too. What! is d'Auriac so high that he cannot stoopto cross a blade with plain Henri de Bourbon?'

  And then it was as if God Himself took the scales from my eyes, and Ifell on my knees before my King.

  He raised me gently. 'Monsieur, I thank you. Had I for one moment leda soul to suspect that I believed in you from the first, this nest oftraitors had never been found. St. Gris--even Sully was blinded. Sofar so good. It is much for a King to have gained a friend, and hark!if I am not mistaken, here is de Vitry.'

  CHAPTER XX

  AT THE SIGN OF 'THE TOISON D'OR'

  Turning, we beheld de Vitry at the open door, the small and narrowfigure of Pantin at his elbow, and, close behind, the stern featuresof the Grand-Master, the anxiety on whose face cleared as he saw theKing before him. He was about to speak, but Henry burst in rapidly:

  'I know all, my lord. It is time to act, not talk. _Arnidieu!_ But Ishall long remember this frolic!'

  'It would seem that God has given us a great deliverance. Sire. All isready. I came but to see that your Majesty was safe and unharmed, andto leave Du Praslin with a sufficient guard for your person whilst wetook our prisoners.'

  As Sully spoke the King threw his roquelaure over his arm and answeredcoldly, 'Monsieur, you are very good. When I want a guard I shall askfor one. I have yet to learn that Henri de Bourbon is to lurk in acorner whilst blows are going, and I shall lead the assault myself!'

  'And the first shot from a window, fired by some _croquemort_, mightleave France at the feet
of Spain, I cut in bluntly, whilst de Vitrystamped his foot with vexation, and the forehead of the Grand-Masterwrinkled and furrowed, though he gave me an approving look from underhis shaggy brows.

  For a moment it was as if my words would have stayed the King. Helooked at me fixedly and stabbed at the carpet with the point of hisblade, repeating to himself, 'At the feet of Spain--Spain! Never!' headded, recovering himself and looking highly around. 'Never!Messieurs, we shall all yet see the lilies flaunting over theEscorial.'

  'Amen!' exclaimed a voice from the darkness of the stairway, and Iheard the grinding of a spurred heel on the woodwork of the floor.

  'Come,' said the King, 'we have no time to lose, and if we delaylonger that hot-head de Belin, will strike the first blow.'

  'With your Majesty's permission, I will make an assault on the rear,'I said.

  'On the rear!' exclaimed de Vitry, whilst the Grand-Master said, 'Itis impossible!'

  But I only pointed to the window, and Henry laughed.

  '_Ventrebleu!_ I understand--a great idea! But, monsieur, take carehow you give away a secret. I shall have no peace if Monseigneur theGrand-Master hears what has happened.'

  I was young enough still to feel my face grow hot at the approval inthe King's voice, and then, without another word, they passed out,_tramp_, _tramp_, down the stairs, all except Sully, who stayed behindfor a moment.

  'Monsieur,' he asked, 'what has happened between you and the King?'

  'His Majesty has pardoned me.'

  'A child might see that. What else? Be quick!'

  'And has given me orders to meet you as you enter the Toison d'Or.'

  The frown on his face cleared. 'Well answered, chevalier. The King, Isee, has won a faithful and discreet friend. Make your attack when youhear the petard.' Then he, too, turned his broad shoulders on me andfollowed the rest.

  As the sound of the heavy footfalls ceased I gave a last look at mypistols, drew in my sword-belt by a hole, and, all booted as I was,essayed the ladder again. The practice I had with it made the ascenteasy now, and perhaps it was this that rendered me careless, for, as Iwas climbing, my foot slipped with a grating noise, and as I stoppedfor a moment, with one leg over the parapet and the other trailingover the drop behind, I heard a quick 'What is that?' through the openskylight. The voice was the Marshal's, and I almost felt that I couldsee his nervous start and rapid upward glance as the scrabbling noisereached his ears. Then came Lafin's answer, in those cool tones thatcan penetrate so far:

  'A cat--only a cat, monseigneur!'

  All was still again, and I crept softly to the opening. I did not darelook in, but crouched beneath the skylight, waiting for the signal. Ihad already observed that the skylight was but a light, woodenframework, with a glazing between, and would need no great effort tobreak down--one strong push and the way was clear before me. So Istayed for a minute of breathless silence, then from far below came asharp, shrill whistle, hurried exclamations from the plotters, and nowthe explosion of the petard, that made the house rock to and fro likea tree in the wind.

  I had no need to force open the skylight. The effect of the explosiondid that most effectually for me and blew out the lamps in the roombelow as well, reducing it on a sudden to absolute darkness. There wasa yell of terror from the room, and, without a moment's hesitation, Iswung through the window and dropped down amongst the conspirators.They were to a man crowding to the door, and not one took any note ofmy entrance, so great was their confusion. I followed the rush ofhurrying figures as they passed through the door into a passage in dimlight from a fire that burned in a small grate. One end of thispassage was full of smoke, against which the bright flashes of drawnswords were as darts of lightning. Beyond the smoke and below we couldhear the clash of steel, cries of pain, and savage oaths, where menwere fighting and dying hard. As I dashed down the passage, sword inhand, my only thought to reach the prisoner's room, one of theretreating figures turned and called out, 'Quick, monseigneur! followme--the secret stair!'

  It was Lafin. In the confusion and semi-gloom he had mistaken me forhis chief. I made no answer, but, as I rushed forwards, struck him onthe face with the hilt of my sword, and he rolled over like a log.

  Now I was right in amongst the scared plotters, cheek by jowl with M.de Savoye's envoy, and I could have dropped him then and there, butthat my whole heart was in Madame's room, and I knew that there wereothers who could and would deal with him.

  As I elbowed my way through the press, vainly endeavouring to find theway to my dear's prison, we reached a landing from which a long stairled straight up, and here I heard the Marshal's voice, cracked withrage and fear.

  'Lafin! de Gomeron! To me--here! here!'

  'Ladies first. Marshal. I must look to my bride.'

  Then through the smoke I saw de Gomeron's tall figure mounting thestair, and I rushed forward to follow him.

  It was at this juncture that a portion of our own party forced theirway to the landing, and one of them, whose sword was broken, flunghimself upon me, dagger in hand, shouting, 'Death to traitors.' Ihad just time to seize his wrist. He tripped sideways over somethingthat lay very quiet at our feet, and, dragging me down, we rolled overand over, with the clash of blades over us. 'It is I--fool--I,d'Auriac--let go,' I shouted, as he tried to stab at me.

  'Let go you,' sputtered d'Aubusson's voice, and we loosed each other.I had no time for another word, and grasping my sword, which washanging to my wrist by the knot, I sprang up, and the next moment washot foot after de Gomeron.

  I managed somehow to force my way through the crowd, but the stairwaywas half-full of men, and at the head of it stood the free-lance, witha red sword in his hand, and two or three huddled objects that lay inshapeless masses around him.

  Some one, with a reckless indifference to his own life--it was, Iafterwards found out, Pantin--held up a torch, and as the flare of itshot up the stairway de Gomeron threw back his head and laughed at us.

  'Twenty to one--come, gentlemen--or must I come to you?' He took acouple of steps down the stairs, and the crowd, that had made as if itwould rush him, wavered and fell back, bearing me, hoarse withshouting for way, with them to the landing.

  For the moment, penned up and utterly unable to get forward, I was amere spectator to what followed.

  The free-lance took one more downward step, and then a slight figure,with one arm in a sling, slid out from the press and flew at him.

  It was d'Ayen, and I felt a sudden warming of the heart to the man whowas going to his death.

  'You--you traitor,' he gasped, as, using his sword with his left hand,his sword ripped the free-lance's ruff.

  'Stand back, old fool--stand back--or--there! Take it,' and, with asharp scream, d'Ayen fell backwards, the crowd splitting for a moment,so that he rolled to the foot of the stairs and came up at my feet.God rest his soul! He died at the last like a gallant man.

  They were backing in confusion now, and above the din I could hear themocking of de Gomeron.

  'Come, gentlemen, do not delay, time presses.'

  One rush through at that time might have saved him, but he stood thereplaying with death. With an effort I pushed d'Ayen, who was stillbreathing, against the side of the wall, to let the poor wretch die insuch comfort as could be, and, seeing my chance at last, made my wayto the front.

  De Gomeron was half-way down the stairs by this, and when our swordsmet he did not for the moment recognise me. But at the second pass herealised, and the torchlight showed him pale to the forehead.

  'You!' he said between his teeth.

  'Yes--I--from under the Seine,' and I had run him through the throatbut for our position, where the advantage was all his, and my reachtoo short. He had backed a step up as I spoke. Whether it was mysudden appearance or what, I know not, but from this moment hisbravado left him, and he now fought doggedly and for dear life.

  There was a hush behind me, and the light became brighter as moretorches were brought, and I could now see the Camarguer white as asheet, wi
th two red spots on his cheeks.

  'Do you like fighting a dead man, monsieur?' I asked as I parried athrust in tierce.

  He half groaned, and the red spot on his cheek grew bigger, but hemade no answer, and step by step I forced him upwards.

  He had been touched more than once, and there was a stain on his whitesatin doublet that was broadening each moment, whilst thrust and parrygrew weaker, and something, I know not what, told me he was my man.

  Messieurs, you who may read this, those at least of you who have stoodsword in hand and face to face with a bitter foe, where the fight isto the last, will know that there are moments when it is as if GodHimself nerves the arm and steels the wrist. And so it was then withme. I swear it that I forestalled each movement of the twinkling bladebefore me, that each artifice and trick the skilful swordsman who wasfighting for his life employed was felt by something that guided mysword, now high, now low, and ever and again wet its point against thebroad breast of the Camarguer.

  So, too, with him--he was lost, and he knew it. But he was a braveman, if ever there was one, and he pulled himself together as wereached the upper landing for one last turn with the death that doggedhim. So fierce was the attack he now made, that had he done so but amoment before, when the advantage of position was his, I know not whathad happened. But now it was different. He was my man. I was carriedaway by the fire within me, or else in pity I might have spared him;but there is no need to speak of this more. He thrust too high. Iparried and returned, so that the cross hilt of my rapier struck dullyover his heart, and he died where he fell.

  But one word escaped him, some long-lost memory, some secret of thatiron heart came up at the last.

  'Denise!' he gasped, and was gone.

  I stood over him for a moment, a drumming in my ears, and then I heardthe ringing of cheers and the rush of feet. Then a half-dozen strongshoulders were at the door before me, and as it fell back with a crashI sprang in and took a tall, slim, white-robed figure in my arms, andkissed her dear face again and again.

  One by one those in the room stepped out and left us together, and foronce a brave heart gave way and she sobbed like a child on myshoulder.

  I said nothing, but held her to me, and so we might have been for ahalf-hour, when I heard de Belin's voice at the broken door:

  'D'Auriac! Come, man!--the King waits! And bring your prisoner!'

  There was a laugh in his voice and a light on his face as he spoke,and my dear lifted her swimming eyes to my face, and I kissed heragain, saying:

  'Come--my prisoner!'

  As we passed out I kept between Claude and the grim figure still lyingstark on the landing, and held her to me so that she could not see.So, with Lisois before us, we passed down the passage, filled now withmen-at-arms, and halted before a room, the door of which was closed.

  'We must wait here a moment,' said de Belin; and merely to saysomething, I asked:

  'I suppose we have the whole nest?'

  'All who were not killed. Stay! One escaped--that rascal Ravaillac. Icould have run him through, but did not care to soil my sword withsuch _canaille_, so his skin is safe.'

  'And Babette?'

  He gave me an expressive look and muttered something about Montfaucon.Then the door was flung open and a stream of light poured forth. Weentered, and saw the King standing surrounded by his friends, and alittle on one side was the dejected group of conspirators.

  The Marshal, now abject, mean, and cringing, was kneeling beforeHenry, who raised him as we entered, saying:

  'Biron, and you, Tremouille, and you all who called yourselves myfriends, and lay in wait to destroy me and destroy your country--Icannot forget that we were old comrades, and for old friendships' sakeI have already told you that I forgive; and God give you all as cleana conscience as I have over the blood that has been spilt to-day.'

  He ran his eye over the group, and they stood before him abashed andashamed, and yet overcome with joy at escape when death seemed socertain; and he, their leader, the man who hoped to see his head on acrown-piece, broke into unmanly sobbing, and was led away vowingrepentance--vows that he broke again, to find then that the mercy ofthe King was already strained to breaking-point.

  As Lafin, with a white and bleeding face, led his master away, Henry'seye fell on me, and he beckoned me to advance. I did so, leadingClaude by the hand.

  'Chevalier,' he said, 'it is saying little when I say that it isthrough you that these misguided gentlemen have realised theirwrong-doing. There is one recompense you would not let me make you forthe wrongs you have suffered. There is, however, a reward for yourservices which perhaps you will accept from me. I see before me aRoyal Ward who has defied her guardian--_Ventre St. Gris!_ My beard isgetting over grey to look after such dainties. I surrender my Ward toyour care.' As he said this he took Claude's hand and placed it inmine. 'I see, madame,' he added, 'that this time you have noobjections to the King's choice. There--quite right. Kiss her, man!'

  * * * * *

  It is all over at last--that golden summer that was so long, and yetseems but a day. It is ten years ago that those shining eyes, thatnever met mine but with the love-light in them, were closed for ever;and the gift that God gave me that did He take back.

  I am old, and grey, and worn. My son, the Vicompte de Bidache, is inParis with the Cardinal, whilst I wait at Auriac for the message thatwill call me to her. When she went, Bidache, where we lived, becameunbearable to me, and I came back here to wait till I too amcalled--to wait and watch the uneasy sea, to hear the scream of thegulls, and feel the keen salt air.

  I have come to the last of the fair white sheets of paper the _Cure_brought for me from Havre this autumn, and it grows strangely darkeven for my eyes. I will write no more, but sit out on the terrace andwait for the sunset. Perhaps she may call me to-day.

  'Jacques, my hat and cloak!'

  THE END.